


Pride of Arlathan

by Fen_Assan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Ar Lath Ma, Dark, Dark!Solas, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hunt, M/M, Magic Sex (Use of magic during sex), Masturbation, POV Alternating, POV Solas, Sexual Tension, Spoilers, just a bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3958642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fen_Assan/pseuds/Fen_Assan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas wants to give Lavellan a gift. As the Inquisitor loves riding, Pride of Arlathan comes to his mind, but Pride is all too common...</p><p>*Pride of Arlathan is a type of hart that can be used as a mount but all the other implications apply:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ithilvhen Lavellan was trying hard to stay asleep in her bed, clutching longingly at the Fade. She didn't want to wake up because she wasn't a mage. Which meant that on waking she would forget all those hours in the Fade with Solas.  


She once admitted to Solas, having him promise it would be their secret, one of many, how she sometimes felt so disappointed that she wasn't a mage. She found the Fade fascinating, mages being able to master the elements captivated her. It was something Solas and her had in common and he loved it about her. Her thirst for knowledge, her desire to delve deeper. That time, he took her left hand in his, lightly brushed his lips over the tips of her fingers and turned her hand palm up.  


'Vhenan,' he said, 'Look. You are not devoid of magic. This magic is unique and ancient.' his fingers patted up along the green mark.  


She gasped. He'd pulsed some of his magic into the touch.  


'Yes,' she exhaled. 'You're right. I have started feeling the Veil differently since I got it, I mean I...started feeling it. It used to terrify me that it is something so unique, and sometimes it still does. But I also love having it. Even if it hurts at times. I can use it for the good of others.' 

She turned her intense look from her palm to his face:

'Do you think there is something else I can do with it except closing and opening rifts? Can we uncover more of its secrets?'  


Solas' smile was that of a proud hahren, a teacher whose pupil has showed the enthusiasm and ability that surpassed his master's expectations. Or it might have been the pride of a lover. Who keeps finding proof of his loved one's worthiness.  


'I can help you learn to meditate and call on the power of the Anchor to be more aware when you are in the Fade. I believe you can learn to remember your dreams. Like mages do.'  


She was a very diligent student. Very eager. She had learned enough so far to sometimes stop mid-sentence or mid-step, her pale neck covered in blush, when the memories of what Solas and her had done in the Fade the previous night came to the surface in the middle of the day. She would try to steal a quick look at him and he would smile at the stars sparkling in her purple eyes. If he could, he would walk by her, brushing her sleeve slightly and whisper:  


'It was my pleasure, Inquisitor'.  


That would invariably brighten the tips of her ears, which seemed to give Solas almost as much pleasure as what they had been doing in the Fade.  


So when she lost the battle with sleep and felt completely awake, she still had pieces and flashes of memories of last night. A moan escaped her lips and she turned around, wrapping herself in the blankets, smiling and keeping her eyes shut for just another moment.  


A careful knock on the door downstairs was somewhat unexpected at that time of day so she sat up and pulled her covers. Josephine stopped at the top of the stairs, smiled at her with a relaxed and cheerful expression, which told Lavellan it was not a business call. At least, not entirely.  


'Good morning, Inquisitor. I beg your pardon for my boldness but I have brought some breakfast. I thought we might share it and have a little chat. I hope I'm not intruding.'  


It was not so bold as Josephine made it sound. The two women had often shared meals and drinks and talks, at times in the tavern but often in the Inquisitor's chambers. But that was mostly before. Before Solas and her. Josephine was much more careful about Lavellan's privacy recently, even though probably no one had ever seen Solas in her quarters. Because he almost never was there. Ithilvhen was blinking vigorously thinking how she could explain Josephine that she wanted to have breakfast with Solas, if possible, and not offend her.  


'Oh Josie,' she started, 'it's so sweet of you. And it's no intrusion really, I just...'  


'Oh good. I'm glad I can be the one to have your company now that Solas is not here to share the morning with you.' she beemed.  


'Oh?' managed Lavellan. 'He's not?'  


'He's on a little mission.' the Ambassador bit her lip as Lavellan was asking:  


'Why...do I know nothing about it?'  


'Do not worry. I'm pretty sure he didn't want me to tell you but it is such a lovely thing of him to do, I can't help myself.'  


Ithilvhen's eyebrows took up residence high up on her forehead.  


'I met Solas early this morning. I asked about you as I needed you to do something today and he suggested I let you sleep a bit longer and he'd go on that errand. It's nothing too dangerous, or too far. He should be back tomorrow afternoon, I believe. Evening at the latest. '  


Ithilvhen was not certain if the feeling of gratitude to Solas was stronger than the ache of not seeing him for almost two days. She sighed. Smiled. Got her feet out of bed and saw a small piece of parchment on her nightstand. In somewhat downplayed elaborate handwriting the note said:  


'Vhenan, I must leave on a minor mission for the Ambassador, nothing you should concern yourself with. You looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you. I hope you will take the time to pursue your specialization training. I look forward to seeing your tempest, da'assan.' 

It was not signed.  


The Inquisitor grabbed a crusty bun which had all the look of being fresh from the oven and though it was still quite hot, sank her teeth into it. Josie was so happy their chatty breakfast was going to happen after all, she didn't mind so much when Lavellan asked with a full mouth:  


'So what's the most exciting latest news?' 

The Ambassador was happy to indulge her curiosity.  


After breakfast, Lavellan decided to get work out of the way by summoning the council to the War table. With that done, she went about Skyhold checking up on her friends. Varric shared some news and Lavellan was a little suspicious when he suddenly asked her about some details of her journey from Haven. They had talked about it times before. When Varric reluctantly admitted he was writing a story about the Inquisition and the Inquisitor, she didn't engage in false modesty. She just thought how strange it would be to read about herself in a book. But knowing Varric, she knew it would be fascinating. To the extent of some events being completely new to her. She didn't mind. She loved stories.  


She tried to find Sera to ask if she needed her book returned yet but she was nowhere to be found. So instead, she promised Bull a pint in the evening. After exchanging a few sentences with Blackwall, she asked master Dennet to prepare two horses for her and went to fetch Cole. Master Dennet was inevitably happy to see Lavellan. His appreciation of her grew immeasurably not so much when she closed the Breach but when he discovered she loved riding. She would often come to the stables to take a mount out, not just for a mission, or simply to spend a few minutes helping to care for them, bring them some carrots from the kitchen or pet the horses on the neck whispering something in their ears.  


Cole was surprised she wanted to go for a ride with him but seemed pleased. Their relationship hadn't really started the best way so Lavellan was happy they grew closer. She learned to understand Cole better, with Solas' help. And she began to really care for the boy.  


As they were riding at a slow trot Cole asked why she didn't want to become an assassin.  


'Because I have you,' she answered simply. 'You are the best assassin the Inquisition could have. Besides, my bow is less suited for silent kills I guess.'  


'It's true,' he admitted. 'The Tempest suits you. He thinks so, too. He wants the ice and fire between you, wants to set the fire inside you and conquer it, sending flashes of ice to prickle on your skin. He wants...' Cole's tone mirrored his puzzlement:  


'Why...would he want to do THAT? Won't it hurt you?'  


Lavellan could only imagine Solas' desires Cole was reading and slightly blushing she responded mildly:  


'No Cole, he wouldn't want to hurt me. That's something people enjoy when they...when they're close.' 

She felt a bit at a loss at placing a label on her relationship with Solas.  


'When they're in love?' Cole asked. 'I'm not good at this but from what I understand you both are.'  


Her exhaled 'Yes' sounded a bit like a sob and a bit like a whimper.  


'Yes, Cole. When they're in love.'


	2. Chapter 2

Solas was still heading West after a couple of hours of his journey. He was now on foot. He'd hitched a ride part of the way with a traders' caravan that was just leaving Skyhold but he had no intention of sticking with them for long. He could have taken a horse from the Inquisition stables, of course, but considering his mission, it wasn't exactly practical. And practical he was trying to be.  


He was walking at a steady pace, switching from looking far ahead to gazing down right in front of his feet as if hypnotized by the rhythmical appearance of his staff hitting the ground in his field of vision, to looking inside himself. He didn't need to switch for the last one, to be completely honest, as he was looking inside himself, tangling the knots of his complicated history even tighter, questioning, judging, catching a rare glimpse of hoping and then falling crashing down below the weight of self accusation all over again, all the time.  


The explanation Josie gave Ithilvhen was not untrue. But not entirely true. Because, as always, Solas simply hadn't told anyone all of his plans. He allowed the Ambassador to interpret his wish to take on the task meant for the Inquisitor as a lover's concern and wish to pamper her a little. That part was unquestionably true. It was however also true that he would much rather stay with her and send someone to fetch whatever else was needed to assist Helisma in her research.  


He chuckled at his regal way of thinking. It was not exactly his place in the Inquisition to send anyone anywhere to fetch anything. It took him some getting used to but somewhere deep inside he enjoyed channeling his power unnoticed. Influencing other people's knowledge, opinions and decisions. He was not that powerful though, not enough to really change some things. That's why he needed the Inquisition. That's why he needed the Inquisitor. That's what he'd been telling himself for a time. But even he could no longer trick himself. He came to care for Ithilvhen truly, with all the boundary-crossing creative power of a trickster. All the fervour and dare of a rebel. He took up this task not because he wanted to just give his vhenan a spare day. He knew she had enough obligations to fill it anyway. He went because he had been falling apart recently.  


As they were getting closer to defeating Corypheus, he was getting deeper involved with the Inquisitor. He found himself tied up and intertwined with her, too close already, too late for both their hearts not to turn into a bloody tattered mess when it was over. He told her and himself numerous lies. Kept even more secrets. But what he told her was also true. He loved her. As a man who did not give his heart easily, as an elf who had nothing, as a god who had lost everything but found something unhoped-for, as a wolf who hunted alone longing for a pack, as a mage and a scholar who worshiped every new discovery that made his eyes light up and his heart sing attuned to hers. He loved her with every bit of what he was. And that was many many bits. He loved her and he knew he'd have to leave her. He would have to wrong her to fix those he had wronged before. A vile and vicious circle. He felt like he was chasing his own tail. There was no one who could tell he wasn't. He tried not to think about how it would be when the time came but was unable to banish the thoughts from his mind. Which truth to tell her, which part of it.  


Now his mind was settled on one simple step. He wanted to give her a gift. He wanted to give her many gifts. All the gifts a god could give her. But he could not be a god for her. He was just an elven apostate who wanted to help the Inquisition. Who tried to keep to himself but couldn't resist her. He was her lover. Who would have to leave her with a broken heart. So he wanted to give her something he thought she would enjoy. Something she wouldn't refuse. Something she would definitely keep even in the face of him leaving her and no matter how he left. And something she might remember him by with at least a little fondness.


	3. Chapter 3

The Inquisitor was ready to continue her training. She went looking for Kihm to tell him she had her bottle of smoke ready. And she'd read the book. It wasn't all that difficult to choose the specialization as some of her companions believed. It was not that she couldn't decide or didn't want to offend any trainer. Rather, always wanting to learn more, she would gladly study all of the disciplines. And she did, as much as her time allowed. She felt enormous respect for those people and their skills but she knew quite early that Tempest was closest to her heart. The question 'How does one put a lightening in a bottle?' had her hooked. It tapped into her interest in alchemy. She felt that being able to cover herself in primal forces during battle, the promise of understanding the storm leading to becoming the storm brought her closer to the object of her fascination: Solas/Magic.  


She found Kihm where she expected him to be, near the stables with the other trainers. She greeted all of them and wondered if they all realized she’d made her choice.  


'So you've killed the demons and filled the essence containment apparatuses. You've read the book. Almost finished it the third time in fact. You have filled a bottle of smoke. But are you ready to commit to the way of the tempest?'

Kihm was eyeing her, daring, curious.  


'I am ready. I do commit to the way of the Tempest. Teach me more.'  


'So you will become a force of nature in the battlefield. I expected as much. Follow me.'  


And so she was off to learn to capture elemental forces. She was impatient to ride the storm and muster the lightening but at the same time, she yearned for the deeper understanding of the alchemical processes that gave birth to the disaster called Tempest. They started with the Flask of Frost. An apt student that she was, she was quick to learn about the ingredients and the recipes for her mixtures. She knew the characteristics of most already, as well as the effects of combining them. The fact that she would now be able to know, understand and do more filled her with thrill and purpose.  


She utterly enjoyed the tough training scheme Kihm had devised for her. Making the elixirs was far from what being the Tempest was all about. She needed to become even more deft and agile than she already was. When she explained that to Blackwall, who joined her on her short break, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He’d always complemented her on how nimble she was and honestly thought it was mostly due to her lifestyle, being a Dalish and a hunter. He didn’t realize a big part of the Inquisitor’s talents came from her constant practice and persistence in bettering herself and the world around her.  


Ithilvhen’s hopes that Sera would be back in time for her agility training expired as the rogue hadn’t turned up. She was probably on some Red Jenny mission and she, as so often before, was reluctant to share that information with anyone. So Lavellan was training herself, with Krem and Skinner of the Chargers and just about anyone who would agree. Those were not numerous as most soldiers were too afraid of a sparring with the Inquisitor, either afraid of the power of their leader or afraid to accidentally hurt her.  


The happiest moment of the day was when she was finally allowed to test her first Flask of Frost in battle. She looked at Kihm full of anticipation, but he just left the room.  


‘That’s it,’ she thought. ‘That’s part of being the Tempest. Stop expecting confirmations. Act.’  


She grabbed her bow and a full quiver, clutched the bottle and rushed out into the training ground. She couldn’t see Kihm first but she was alert now, expecting anything to be part of the training. She nocked an arrow, holding the flask with little more than just two fingers of the same hand. She took aim and was slowly circling in search of any movement in her direction. There were still soldiers practicing with swords a bit away from her, she heard people shouting, Skyhold was full of life as always, sending distractions from all sides. A perfect stage for a stealth attack. She noticed a blur in the corner of her eye and turned momentarily on one heel but with the bottle still intact. It wasn’t Kihm. She knew because she felt he’d come from another side, not the opposite, just different, and there would be more distractions. And there were. But when she heard a raven caw taking off the battlements wall, she smashed the flask on her chest, swirled and let out a flurry of arrows, mixed with ice chipping off and catching anyone and anything in her melee range. She shot her arrows at Kihm, who appeared out of nowhere and evaded them all with the help of his flaming daggers. As it was over, he left without a comment, only:  


‘We continue tomorrow, Inquisitor.’  


Before getting out of sight, however, he paused, turned around and added:  


‘I am not unimpressed.’  


Ithilvhen exhaled, only noticing now the rush that went through her body and catching the smirk of Iron Bull, who had apparently watched the practice and was now letting the wall stand without the support of his weight and walking leisurely towards her. She smiled at him and thought of how, had he been there, Solas would be the one watching her, with his hands folded, focus in his eyes, as if mentally doing the task with her, and granting her a glorious smile afterwards, the one that showed everyone how proud he was of her.


	4. Chapter 4

Pride seemed to be on his mind and around him a lot. It was after all a good choice of a name. For someone who was once so proud he allowed his misjudgement lead him into actions that were nothing to be proud of. So it made him sore with disappointment that his first thought when he decided to give his love a gift, was that of pride. A mere Pride of Arlathan was not a worthy gift. Not even, or especially because of all the implications the name bore. She was worth more than that. So Solas, one who didn't know him could say, jumped at the opportunity (rather barely inclined his head to the Ambassador while accepting the task, with too much grace for an elven apostate) to take up a mission in Orlais. It allowed him to procure the gift he'd finally chosen for her, with the slight inconvenience of having to find and bring back to Skyhold soil samples taken from closed rift sites, tissue samples from a couple of carnivores local to central Orlais and a book. That wasn't much trouble for Solas. He remembered the locations of all the rifts they closed in Orlais. She closed. But he was with her every time. He had some clues about where the book could be. The book title was a source of some amusement to him: 'Halla in the Heather, Wolves in the Woods: A Naturalist's Observations.' The Wolf would bring his Halla the text, meant to assist her in killing wolves, among other things. Fen'Harel had always appreciated irony. And he was actually looking forward to a bit of hunting. He'd be doing it for research purposes this time but it was the same thrill that stirred in the wolf's nostrils. Dreading the Wolf didn't mean he didn't miss him.  


He decided to go after his gift first. It might as well be called his prize as one didn't simply buy one or catch one. The Dalish had a saying that if you wanted to match the majesty of that creature, you needed to grow some bloody wings. He shook his head at the Dalish love of exaggeration. They claimed it was a privilege to even glimpse one from a distance. Truly very few had ever mastered one, however. So it was a rare gift. No animal was more sure of foot, more attuned to its rider or more inspirational to gaze upon. Solas was going to find and master a Red Hart for his vhenan. A lot would say it was an in credibly romantic gesture considering the rarity and difficulty of obtaining such a gift. The sentiment was true for Solas. Even though it was also somewhat of a personal quest. Fen'Harel had mastered a Red Hart once before. So the task was to test Solas' capability against that of his younger self. He planned to meet one up close, points-first. The Pride against the pride of the stable.  


He had to rely on his sense of smell and his tracking skills to single one out. He did and it was glorious. Solas stayed in the shadows for a few moments simply watching the animal. Not assessing his and his opponent's strengths and calculating his behaviour (could he really help not to?) but just admiring.  


A reddish coat covered the deer's massive body which was a showcase of strength and endurance. Solas saw it first in profile and no matter how quiet he was, the majestic animal seemed to sense him. Or it probably sensed a wolf. As the hart turned its head to face Solas from a distance, he saw the muscles prominent in its neck and the huge antlers forming a crown. It was indeed a mighty and noble sight to behold. But Fen'Harel wasn't there just to watch. The thrill of the hunt threatened to take him over so he had to remind himself he wasn't there to draw blood either. At least not necessarily. His game was to make his power recognized as dominant, to force the creature to yield to his will. Solas once told the Inquisitor that no real god need prove himself and anyone who tries is mad or lying but this beast didn't bow simply to the concept of a god. It would only accept a stronger hand and a stronger spirit, be it an ancient god or an apostate mage. For this, he needed to be both.  


He let his staff lean on a tree and made a move forward. If someone was watching, they wouldn't be able to describe it, not really, maybe the feeling of it rather than a visual image would be the closest characterization. A competent mage would recognize a Fade step but who or what was stepping through was a blur. It seemed a creature forever caught in the process of shapeshifting, with a feral fanged beast showing through the surface of an elf. It was terrifyingly mad and magnificent.  


Moments, or maybe hours later, Solas was standing right in front of the seemingly preparing to charge hart, extending his hand in front of himself, almost touching the sharp points of the antlers, his head slightly bowed but his eyes up and tense. For a while they were as if frozen in their stillness. The hart moved. Blood was drawn. A few drops were dripping from Solas' hand where it met the antler. Fen'Harel didn't move. The hart took a step back, stamped its front hoof less forcibly than before and lowered its head. Not in attack, not in defeat but in admittance of another's power. In acceptance of an established connection. In readiness to serve and be served as a faithful companion. The elf approached the animal even closer to connect foreheads in an ancient greeting. Solas touched now his hart on the neck, his blood brushing against the red hide, and dropped his head back with a swing as if it was still full of black dreads that needed to be put out of the way, and let out a feral laugh at Fen'Harel. The older man was a match for his younger self still.


	5. Chapter 5

'So Boss, how's that crazy thing going?'  


The Iron Bull wiped the ale foam off his face with his arm without letting go of the mug.  
Lavellan's gulp from her own was interrupted by coughing which sent a fine spray of ale on her clothes, the table and Bull's other arm. She loved Bull. She trusted him with her life. But he still managed to take her unawares at times with his not-forgotten Ben-Hassrath ways. That was just such a question. Or the way he asked it.

'Oooh,' she breathed in between the coughs, 'good stuff.'  


Then looked up at Bull, dried her face with a sleeve and gave him a wide grin:

'Which one of my endeavors are you asking about?'

'Ha-ha Boss. Good one.'  
he leaned back laughing but in a moment the laugh disappeared as if never there, as he brought his face right next to hers and was staring at her wide eyes above the rim of the mug:

'So you admit you've been doing some crazy stuff lately?'

She held his stare. And her mug in the same position. Then slowly set down the ale on the table, got off the bench just enough for their eyes to be on the same level and uttered in a husky voice:

'I believe I do not yet know the definition of crazy but I'm learning from the best. And maybe one day I will know what the Iron Bull kind of crazy is.'  


As she was speaking, she was leaning forward over him and finished almost touching his horns with her forehead, which was not as distracting as her boobs hidden by just a light cotton tunic quite dangerously approaching his nose. Bull let out a wolf-whistle and shouted with a happy laugh:

'Another one for the Inquisitor!'

'Well that was some blatant piece of flirting your hermit lover would not appreciate. Tsk tsk, dear Inquisitor.'  


Dorian appeared just behind Lavellan's back. He squeezed her shoulder gently in greeting and looked at them for a moment with a feigned condemnatory and then a sincere mischievous and conspiratorial look, fabulous as always.

'Is there a place for some magnificence here?' He grinned.

'Well...actually... you're interrupting a very productive discussion of various methods of interrogation. But if you insist.'

The Inquisitor pulled his sleeve to make him sit down next to her and smiled:

'What are you drinking?'

'Well that's the kind of welcome I appreciate. So my courtesy lessons were not completely wasted. Or, they were after all.'  
Dorian sighed looking at his elf friend, produced a silk handkerchief out of some secret fold of his sleeve and whisked it at Lavellan.

'I don't recall our apostate showing any predilection for moustaches, or have I missed my chance there?'

Ithilvhen wiped the fluff of ale foam off her upper lip and teased:

'I could ask Solas if he's interested in your charms, my dear Dorian, but I don't want to disappoint you. You see, he already has me to satisfy his interests and I don't think you want a competition there, darling.'

The Bull laughed heartily and Dorian took the Inquisitor's hand with the genuine affection of a friend.

'Well, his loss.' he said in a singing voice, eyeing the serving girl and smiling at her hungrily,  
'I do have to get a decent drink though, to restore my dishevelled state.'

The girl was already by their table doing a tiny curtsy for Dorian and blushing profusely when she accepted his order of  


'Another round of whatever these two are drinking and a bottle of Antivan brandy for your humble servant.'

As the girl left fluttering her skirts about, Iron Bull smirked at Dorian and asked:

'The poor thing doesn't even know she has no chance with you, mage, does she?'

'Every lovely soul in need of inspiration has a chance with me.' he put his boots up on the bench next to Bull, 'Even you.'

'I might just take you up on your promise.'

Lavellan was lucky not to choke again, slightly shocked with the exchange. It was probably due to being already tipsy but she couldn't decipher if that was just some poking fun at each other or there actually was a hint of genuine interest between the two men. She decided just to go on drinking and enjoying her friends' company. Dorian broke the silence with

'Where is that elusive love interest of yours, Inquisitor? Will Solas finally be joining us or the tavern is just too much of a not-his-temple?'

'Well, he happens to be on an operation for Josie.'

'Just him?' Dorian's perfectly-shaped brows shot up. 'That's unusual.'

'Josie says he volunteered to give me a break from going around fetching things.'

'Oh! He is a romantic! There are so many tales you could share about him, I bet. Your closest friends are here to listen.'  


Dorian made a show of turning fully to face Lavellan and clasping his hands around one knee. Bull played along by quickly sticking his elbows on the table, shelving his chin on his hands and blinking vigorously, pretty closely mimicking a pose Dorian happened to assume from time to time, when in especially playful mood or trying to get something from someone.

'No.' Lavellan couldn't help a giggle at their expressions:

'You find your own entertainment.'

Dorian parted his legs, fixed a hand on each knee:

'Well you virtually leave us no choice.' His gaze turned to Iron Bull, who agreed:

'Inquisitor's orders.'

'Are we allowed to finish a drink first?' question addressed to the Inquisitor. 'Or will you not be able to handle me drunk?' to the Bull.

'I do love a challenge so we'll need to stay drinking for quite a while before I get even close to drunk.'

Lavellan was trying to hide her blushing in the mug. But her ears, red up to their points, were beyond hiding.  
Dorian rumbled with now clearly excited and expectant laughter:

'You and Solas will be so jealous.'

She could not be jealous of her friends, she would be the first to support them and be happy for them. She would admit though that their sexual innuendo that had played out in front of her that evening did make her wish her lath were with her. She shoved away the thoughts about the technicalities of Bull and Dorian's possible intimacy and switched to wondering when Solas would be back to Skyhold as she was stumbling up the stairs to her chambers hours later. But as soon as she reached them, she also reached a wise decision. She needed to go to sleep at once. It was late, she was drunk, there'd be many things to be done tomorrow and she didn't want to be a mess when Solas returned. But she didn't mind if he came to mess with her in the Fade. She giggled. In an instant, she was asleep with that thought, her clothes and her smile still on.


	6. Chapter 6

Solas wasn't planning to sleep that night. The contention between him and the red hart had left him wearier than he would like to admit so he had to make a stop and meditate for a couple of hours during the day. He hadn't made camp exactly and he had no wish to go to the closest Inquisition camp, of which there were quite a few now. He just sat below a huge tree quite deep in the woods, with scattered wards and glyphs serving as his early notification system. The hart was in the meadow nearby, grazing the lush grass. The beast had submitted to his will but it was yet too early for Solas to let it roam free. The connection was still fragile, so the hart was saddled, which also served as training for its future life in Skyhold stables.  


As his mind emerged from the meditation, Solas stood up and stretched, letting escape a wild noisy yawn. No one in Skyhold had ever seen or heard him do that. And he was sure most of them believed he practiced proper etiquette at all times, even when he was alone. He chuckled walking towards the hart to check up on it. In a few minutes he was back below the tree. He took his satchel, fished out the book of Naturalist's observations he had already procured and sat comfortably to thumb through some pages. Considering it was about the plants and beasts of Orlais, it wasn't so full of rubbish as some other modern/shemlen books he'd read. But some information was still ridiculous and the emerging frustration of it seemed to make him hungry. He still had a few carnivores to hunt, or as his official business stated, 'sample the tissue for Halisma's research'. The mage whirled his staff around without producing any magic, just enjoying the work of muscles in his arms and the slight breeze brought by the spinning, before fixing it on his back together with the satchel. He mounted the hart with one easy sweep and set off.  


He had his mind set on finding an 'Old Man of the Forest' as it was known, an Orlesian great bear. Solas noted the lack of imagination in people who gave the beast such a trivially descriptive name but found it excusable. It was a great huge beast after all, quite rare to find and so vicious, even Orlesian nobles chose not to hunt it. Solas wasn't an Orlesian noble, he was...well, a lot of things. And he'd had enough of rams and fennecs. The only thing he was unsure of as yet was in which form he should hunt the creature. He closed his eyes calling for his other self's incredible sense of smell to see if there was a scent to catch. There was. The bear was far but that wasn't an obstacle enough to stop him. He brought his head forward and low towards the hart's and whispered:  


'You'd love to go on a hunt as the hunter, wouldn't you, ma falon?'  


'Hyah!' he only just pressed his heels into the hart's sides and it charged, as if sharing his rider's waking thrill.  


When they got close to the bear's den at dusk, the beast was easy to follow, its scent as if laid out in front of him like a path of glowing glyphs. Solas dismounted soundlessly and the hart was shooed off, thanks to Solas slapping its rump or him saying something to it in elvish, it was hard to discern which had more effect. He set protective wards around a large enough area for it to graze. He was feeling cocky but he wasn't going to risk the red hart. He was going to be the bait himself. For the love of irony if nothing else.  


He walked upwind for a few meters and sensed the bear was close, almost there. Not for long, now that the Dread Wolf had caught its scent. He stopped. Looked around at the trees and some fresh leaves on the ground that wouldn't rustle. He sent a tiny flame over them, to dry and shrivel up and shape and darken. He wanted them to rustle.  


He hadn't done his Dread Wolf magic for a while now but he was ready. The people of today would call that shapeshifting. But that was so much more than that, so much more powerful and ancient. He revelled in the feeling as that old old energy went circulating in his body, sharpening his senses of smell and hearing first, letting the fangs out, rearranging the muscles and putting him on all fours eventually, allowing him to do that first thing he loved most about becoming the Wolf. He lifted his head up and howled. Fear was certainly a kind of blood magic as any creature that found itself nearby at that moment felt their blood running cold as they realized they were fleeing in terror. That was fine. He knew his prey would not run. And the Dread Wolf did not need an audience. Well, not this time anyway.  


The beast that appeared, swaying its head with every heavy step, was raking through the undergrowth. Its blood-filled eyes met the intruder's three pairs of glowing red embers. It would not tolerate any intruders on his territory. Whoever they were, however dangerous they were.  


'It is going to be a good fight,' the thought disappeared without lingering in the Wolf's mind. Now he was all instinct. He crouched for an instant, tail cocked, ears forward, fangs bared and rushed forward at the bear before it could stand on its hind legs. The bear was truly massive and standing up it would almost tower over him. The adrenalin sent his blood pounding in his ears. Swift moves. He darted to bite at the shoulder to avoid the crushing clawed paw. He succeeded. The taste of bear's blood on his tongue and the smell of the opponent's rage were delicious. There was no shame at wagging his tail with excitement. The bear's retaliation was meant to be standing up and falling on the smaller wolf, putting all his weight into front paws to crush him to the ground. But it wasn't fast enough. The wolf darted to the side and plunged his teeth into the soft side of his rival just about to stand up. He did catch a blow on the head with a mighty paw but he was able to get out, he wasn't grasped. This was all a bit wrong, hunting without his pack but that's what the stories told about him. He Who Hunts Alone. Damned stories. At least now he could prove this one right.  


Thinking of that particular subject during a fight proved not to be a good idea. It just cost him a patch of fur and a deep scratch from the bear's claws. His injury wasn't working for his enemy's advantage, however. It only raised his hackles, brought his focus back on the fight and with it, the viciousness in the rumbling growl, saliva dripping off the fangs, black fur standing on end at the back of his neck and a thrust. The attack was a blast. Of the energy of the Fade and the raw animal power. The wolf started darting from side to side, forcing the bear to abandon the position in which he had his back covered, circled around it a few times, landing random bites, moving seemingly in all directions and being everywhere at the same time.  


Thin branches of lightening were seeping off the Wolf's fur tinted with the green of his so familiar and so deeply missed magic. Flashes and sparkles blinding the bear, its pelt catching fire in places and getting stung by frost in others sent the great bear into a frenzy. And in the moment of confusion so well directed by the Trickster god, his jaws met on the other's neck and clenched. The bear writhed, making those otherworldly lupine teeth sink deeper. A gush of hot blood filled the wolf's mouth and began trickling out, smearing his fur and falling to the ground slowly and audibly. He would not let go, no matter of the slashes the claws of the losing opponent were still landing on his sides. The Wolf jerked his head to the sides tearing the muscles and tendons in the bear's neck. He was going for the backbone. He knew which part of those little bones in the neck needed to be crushed to cause the victim to be paralyzed, to stop breathing or to die of shock. He opted for the last one, a quick death, though not easy or clean.  


When it was all over, he slumped his exhausted and bleeding body next to his kill, panting. He would feed before turning back to his elven form. It was curious how he had such a sophisticated taste in food: he enjoyed the exquisite delicacies served at the Orlesian court immensely. They were, of course, only shadows of the intricate art that preparing food had been in Arlathan. Yet, even as an Elvhen, he would not be repulsed by the idea of eating raw meat. If he was pressed to choose, he would prefer bear meat roasted, spiced up with some herbs. But he wanted to honour the animal he killed by feeding on it as a predator.  


Back as Solas, he let most of his non-life-threatening cuts and bruises remain for a while, in truth he was enjoying the wounds and aches in a manner many would think perverse. Those many would believe so because they didn't know what it meant for him. As those were the wounds received as a free and wild hunter of the forest, not a mage or a member of the Inquisition.  


He took out a knife to carve a piece of meat he'd take along as a meal on the road back to Skyhold. Working steadily and expertly he remembered a particular dagger he had once had. In his home time of Arlathan. It had a thin curved silverite blade, with an exquisite carving of a snarling wolf's head in the hilt made of tusk. It was Mythal's present. She wanted him to call it Fang. He didn't. But he loved the dagger.  


Back in the now he had a moment of hesitation whether he should take a sample tissue for Helisma or not. It was after all a creature too rare and powerful, there were only 25 known in all of Thedas. 24 now. As the moment passed, he crouched back and cut a small piece, wrapped it in some leaves and put it away. He would say he chanced upon a group of village hunters attacked by the beast and assisted them in killing it. In return, they were kind enough to share a bit of the spoils. The story was enough to even earn him some respect and not enough to raise suspicion about his abilities. They would all be safer not knowing. For now.


	7. Chapter 7

Lavellan woke up disappointed. Solas hadn't visited her in the Fade and she didn't have the power to go looking for him there herself. It was still night so there was a chance of a later encounter but she felt so...ah, she couldn't bother trying to describe it to herself...she didn't feel like sleeping.  


The elf drank some water from the pitcher on her nightstand, Creators bless whoever had put it there. She slumped back on the sheets and with a frustrated grunt, slammed her fists into the bed. She never liked the bed, not just this huge and pretentious one, but being Dalish, the concept of a bed itself wasn't really close to her wild heart. Most of all, she disliked the fact that she was alone there. It was too big for one by any measure. On those too rare occasions when Solas stayed there overnight, it felt a lot different. It became cosy. But before that it became hot and damp, with their passion turning the bed linen properly wrinkled and rugged.  


She remembered what Cole had said about Solas' fantasies. Her hands moved to scoop her breasts, modest by human standards but quite full by the Dalish, squeezing lightly and rubbing over the thin clothes. Her nipples hardened from the touch but also spurred by her fantasy. She was thinking of Solas. Him kissing her, stealing breath from her mouth and reaching his hand below the fabric of her tunic, drawing smaller and smaller circles around her breast, with his fingers finally just about reaching the target but not quite touching the nipple. He would remove his hand then, look at the already towering stiff nipple, smile in that particular way of his, predatory and tender at the same time, cover the nipple with his lips and suck through the fabric, growling with pleasure.  


Ithilvhen had quite good memory and even better imagination. She squeezed both nipples and pulled and moaned. One hand remained working the soft flesh though the material, as he would have done, and the other slid between her legs. She covered her mound, pressing tightly. Then ran her fingers along the centre, from her entrance to the clit, to the little soft hairs, as light as the hair on her head, as her eye lashes. Solas loved how light they were, he always said they were the perfect frame for her dark purple eyes. He liked kissing them, both her lashes and the hair on her more intimate parts. He liked kissing her everywhere.  


Another moan escaped her parted lips as she was caressing, rubbing and pinching slightly. She sucked on a finger, not because she needed moisture, she was already slick with juices, but because she liked it. Having his finger in her mouth as his cock was inside her, her licking, sucking, biting his fingers gave them both so much pleasure. She couldn't wait any longer and finally slid two fingers inside, pushed them deep and again and again and then moved them out, all slippery, to her clit. She was breathing hard and she wanted more. She moved her fingers back in, plunging, and left the other hand dancing around her clit. Creators, she was missing a pair of hands. She loved it when once Solas wanted to watch her pleasure herself. Then, her one hand was on her clit, another on her breast. Solas' hands ended up pinching the other nipple and fingering her. She was so close now.  


She sat up, knees apart, pulled the tunic off and went on working her tight slit and deliciously swollen clit with her left hand, the anchor sparkling sporadically, her right hand grabbing and squeezing her breasts together. She threw her head back as she came with a gasp. Left her fingers inside, feeling the pulsation and then pressing them on the outside, juicing out all the remaining pleasure and quivering with it. With Solas, this would not have been enough. It would only stir up the appetite. But for now, she could try to get some more sleep. She didn't bother with getting dressed again and just squeezed a pillow, lay on her stomach, throwing a blanket over her sweaty body and soon fell asleep, still sweetly aware of her slickness.


	8. Chapter 8

Solas planned on returning to Skyhold at night in an attempt to avoid the unnecessary attention and to hide the red hart in the stables. Before leaving on his journey, he had agreed with Master Dennet about securing a place for it somewhere a bit away from the eyes until he brought Lavellan to meet her new mount. In that conversation with Master Dennet, however, Solas had only mentioned that he would bring a new mount as a surprise for the Inquisitor and that it might be a bit spirited. As a result, Master Dennet was apparently expecting something along the lines of an Orlesian Courser as he couldn't believe his eyes when Solas led a red hart into the stables. The man had never seen one before but knew the descriptions well. He proved it by reciting them to Solas, who, (not) answering his multiple questions, just gave him a tired smile and said:

'I was incredibly lucky.'

With that, he whispered a few words into the hart's ear, petted it on the neck and before leaving turned to Master Dennet with:

'Thank you. I will bring the Inquisitor to look at him as soon as I can tommorow. Good night.' 

Solas had healed most of the branding left by his hunt before entering the fortress, he didn't want Ithilvhen worried. But all the events of the journey still left him exhausted, even though pleased. He was sore and filthy and needed a good bath with some restorative embrium. But he was also sore to see Lavellan. He was hoping she was in bed because he desperately wanted to quietly enter her room, crawl under the covers with her, grab her little body into his hug and feel the scent of her hair lull him to sleep. He went to the rotunda first, however, left his things and his staff there and then, grateful for the empty throne room, went up to her door. She was asleep. He took off his dirty clothes and as he was leaving them in a pile on the floor, she woke up. He was very quiet but she was a Dalish.

'Solas?'

He smiled. 

'Hush, vhenan. Sleep.' he whispered, joining her in bed.

She didn't stay in her perfect-for-spooning position but turned to face him, put her arms around him, placed hurried but warm and sleepy kisses on his lips and face.

'I missed you.' her astonishing purple eyes were hazy and happy.

'I'm here, my heart. I missed you, too.' 

After they shared a long gentle kiss, she curled on her side right next to him, fixing her head against his chest. She inhaled.

'You're dirty and smelly,' she said,'I love it.'

He kissed the soft hair at the back of her head, wrapped his arm around her and with her falling back asleep almost immediately, he stayed long awake. Holding her, gaze fixed in the middle distance, until he finally squeezed her even closer and closed his eyes. 

Solas couldn't believe she wasn't there when he woke up. Couldn't believe he hadn't heard her leave and couldn't believe he had slept for so long. He sat up in bed, settled his elbows on his knees and massaged the temples a bit. He was contemplating his stupid impracticality the night before, which resulted in him still being filthy and only having his dirty clothes on a heap on the floor. His head turned in the direction he expected to see it and he didn't. That puzzled him as he was fairly sure where he'd left his clothes. It was crystal clear though that there was no clothes of his there or, in fact, anywhere in the room. He was just hoping Sera hadn't chanced upon him in the Inquisitor's bed alone and had added his clothes to her collection of pranks.  


He suddenly had an urgent wish to go out on the balcony, breathe the chilly air and look at the mighty mountains and the held back sky surrounding Tarasyl'an Te'las. To remind him of the bigger picture, draw him away from the little unimportant things he shouldn't worry about. There was of course a risk of someone seeing him there but considering the fact he would likely have to parade out of the Inquisitor's quarters, through the Throne room, past Varric, past all those others into the rotunda in his underpants, the risk wasn't much.  


He started laughing to himself suddenly, as he had an idea that his younger cockier self would actually enjoy such a parade, just that he would definitely perform it naked. It was the fact that the thought was alluring even now that made him laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

Lavellan paused in her steps to listen before reaching the top of the stairs and immediately followed the sound of Solas' laughter as her eyes lit up and her lips curled into a smile. She reached him with that radiant look still on her face, quickly set a packet she was carrying aside on the bed, jumped at Solas and straddled him, making him fall back on the bed under her hardly noticeable weight. Her hands on his neck, the tips of her fingers brushing his ears, she leaned in for a long kiss and asked through it:

'What were you laughing about?'

'Good morning, emma lath. I was imagining some scandalously indecent behaviour you and I should definitely exercise one day.'

He went on to kiss her neck and finish it with a playful nip of his teeth accompanied by a touch of his magic's frost.

'I like the train of your thought...' she started, shivering at the sensation.

'Oh, you have no idea.' he rumbled.

'...but I have to go soon. Really soon. Have to discuss strategy...' - the kisses and gentle bites never stopped- '...Tactics. One or the other.'

She moaned, as if completely succumbing to pleasure, but managed to pull her will together and sat up a bit. Her knees were still hugging Solas' hips.

'I brought you some clean clothes but you have to wash first so I'd filled a bath for you, you'll just need to warm it, and I have some breakfast for us.'   
She recited quickly.

'I know what I want for breakfast.'  
The man grasped her waist with both hands and got up into the sitting position with one flex of his toned muscles.

'Before breakfast, after breakfast, maybe during. Or instead. I want you. Now.'

'The council is in fifteen minutes...I guess we could...' Lavellan's breathing shallowed.

'You are right.' He said in that dangerously sexy voice of his,  
'Fifteen minutes is simply not enough for me to even start worshiping your body, tasting it, sending waves of pleasure all over it. Not now then. Later.'

There was no relief in Lavellan's expression but only disappointment. She would have given in, be late for the blighted meeting, forget all about it entirely. To the Void with all and any meetings when he was here and hers and she desperately wanted to show him just how much his she was. But as it undeniably too often happened, he was infuriatingly right.

'You,' she said, poking a finger at his chest, 'are such a tease, I...'

'Will be thinking about my promise all day long?'- he said under his breath, raising a brow. 'Imagining all the caresses? All the sensations? Mmmm. That will be delicious.'

She was fairly sure he was referring to both the sex he promised for later and her slow torture awaiting it.  
He stood up from the bed losing the sheets and revealing his smallclothes bursting with erection. Ithilvhen's gaze lingered on it for a while, before going up and down to take in all of him: the lithe, long, strong legs, the lean sculpted abdomen and finely defined chest muscles, the shoulders too broad for an elf, the arms...Creators. He seemed to let her gaze and enjoy as he stood there a while without moving, a soft (could it be somewhat vain at the same time?) smile playing on his lips. He came closer and cupped her face in his hand:

'I will not indulge without you. I promise.'

Before she closed her eyes for the kiss, she decided that smile was definitely vain now, but also tender.

'Considering I was denied to feast on the choicest of possible breakfasts,' 

Lavellan's eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened trying to form the indignant "YOU were denied??'

Solas went on:

'You said there was some food?'

'Fenedhis. Yes. I left the tray at the bottom of the stairs. Wait, you're not dressed and you still have an...'

She was trying to make sense of his confusingly seductive behaviour but Solas just gave a chuckle and went down the stairs as he was:

'Well, it will probably disappear if I meet anyone there.'

'Probably?..'

But he was gone and back in a few moments. With the erection still intact. Lavellan let out a tortured moan. It was going to be a long tough day.

'So how have you been these past two days while I was away?'

Solas asked setting the tray on the bed and sitting opposite her, legs crossed, nothing too distracting. He broke a still warm bun in two, put some butter on both halves and handed one to Ithilvhen while she was switching to other thoughts and telling him how it had all been relatively quiet, how she'd been training with Kihm who hadn't exactly praised her but she got the impression she wasn't half so bad. How they had meetings and how she drank with Bull and Dorian.

'Oh, I believe that's the latest news actually.' she said excitedly. 'I think the two of them are interested in each other.'

Solas chewed on some grapes and smiled:

'I'd be surprised if it were otherwise, from all the signs they were shooting at one another.'

'Oh. Well, by now I guess they have actually acted on it.'

She didn't want to admit she hadn't really noticed much of those signs before.  
Solas only shrugged his shoulders and half-smiled still chewing on his breakfast.

'Well, I have to go now, they'll be waiting for me. What are your plans, vhenan?'

Lavellan asked trying to get off the bed as slowly as one possibly could.

'I will need to report to the Ambassador and Helisma about my trip as soon as I get myself into a presentable state.'

Lavellan gasped and blushed profusely.

'I'm so sorry, I never asked you how it went. Nor have I thanked you for it. Solas...'

'It went well. And you will have your chance to thank me yet, not to worry. I hope to have some of your time later.'

'Yes,' she smiled wickedly, 'you said.'

'For THAT I will need a LOT of your time. But I would also like to see you before that, when you can.'

'All right? I'm not sure when but I will be free at some point in the afternoon I guess. What did you have in mind?'

'It's a surprise.'

He leaned in to finally pull her off the bed, press her body to his with one hand on her back and the other just below it and kiss her. He then turned her around and gave her a slight push and a slap on her small but nicely shaped ass. 

'Now go. The Inquisitor shouldn't be late.'

She shot a look at him that said she wanted to posses him, never let him out of her reach or off her body for that matter, give everything to him, fulfill his every desire and kill him all at once, then bit her lip, smiled and left.


	10. Chapter 10

It was only hours later that Solas saw Lavellan again. He was for the third time trying to leave the very impressed Helisma who had asked him to come see her again to talk more about Orlesian great bears so her research would be more complete with the direct evidence. The Inquisitor came to the rookery to send a raven and, being disappointed at not finding Solas downstairs on her way there, her face lit up as she saw him and made to approach.  
Helisma broke in.

'Inquisitor! Solas was just telling me all about his encounter with the great bear, it is quite extraordinary! I never expected to have such a sample...'

Solas was starting to find the woman decidedly tiresome. He was quite convinced she would not be able to deal with him telling her 'all about it'.

'I am certain Inquisitor Lavellan will be glad to hear the story when she has a moment. At present she seems otherwise engaged. Inquisitor, could we be of any service?'

Inquisitor's mouth opened and shut a couple of times when she finally realized what Solas' look was telling her.

'Yes, actually. Solas, if you could assist me with...one translation, I would appreciate it.'

He inclined his head in a slight bow to Lavellan and turned to Helisma:

'Of course. If the head researcher has no further need of me now...'

The woman pulled herself together:

'Of course, your worship. Thank you, Solas. We will talk again some other time.'

'Of course.'

At times the elf mage entertained himself by imagining what could be done with just the snap of his fingers. It mostly happened in situations he had to be very polite while listening to fools.

As Solas was assisting the Inquisitor in fetching a raven before moving on to the non-existent translation (there were actually lots of translations he still needed to do), Lavellan whispered agitatedly:

'What's that story with great bears? You didn't say anything. You fought one?! Are you all right???'

'Vhenan,' he whispered back calmly, 'You saw me this morning. I am whole and fully functioning. You also saw I was admittedly tired. I was going to tell you later. It is part of a bigger story.'

She was still looking at him a bit suspiciously.

'Is that the surprise story? I want to hear it.'

'Yes, it is connected. As soon as you have time. As a matter of fact, you need to see it more than hear it.'

She only considered for a moment.

'I do love the mysterious but...now.'

'I am at your command,' he laughed quietly, 'right after I help you with that translation. I think it will turn out it has already been done and I will simply present you with the tome in question.'

'Right,' she continued louder: 'I will need that translation now.'

So they followed Solas' plan into the rotunda where he examined a few books on the shelves running his fingers through them quickly but without haste. When quite soon Lavellan was presented with some not at all random text and she looked at it blankly in her hands, the remains of her patience expired.

'Solas, you will either show me, tell me that surprise of yours or throw me on this desk and take me right this moment. I can't wait any longer. I must have some of it.'

He loved the combined demand and plea of it.

'I assure you, vhenan'ara, you will receive both.'

He moved towards where she was standing with her back to his desk, hands leaning on it. She sat on the edge when he took her both hands, towered over her and kissed her parted lips. Then pulled her up with:

'We start with the surprise.'

She was frustrated again for a moment, not getting more of what she wanted but she couldn't complain. She did say she needed one of those. And he did say she'd have both.  
She opted for not questioning where they were going when he led her out into the courtyard. He was holding her hand all the way. She was quite sure he had never done that in public.

They finally reached the stables, where Master Dennet met them with an excitedly conspiratorial look she'd never seen on him. She could have sworn he actually winked at Solas. Though whom she was kidding, he? Winked? At Solas?

Be that as it may, Master Dennet quickly summoned the only stable boy present and urged him outside saying he needed his help with something and the couple were left alone. There were not too many things they could be doing in the stables (the still aroused part of Lavellan contradicted that statement), so she supposed Solas was taking her for a ride to see something. She was a little puzzled that Solas just kept walking past the horses they normally used. The two of them had been out for a leisurely ride a couple of times and, knowing how much she loved them, he had always left the choice of mounts to her. She liked using different ones most times, so that they all felt loved and useful, she explained. Stranger still was that they were clearly heading for the back of the stables where she was quite sure, the stalls were empty. Had he?..

He stopped a few paces away from one stall, let go of her hand and looked at her with the expression she had trouble decrypting. He seemed an unlikely mixture of humble, proud, shy, cocky, embarrassed and tender. She was overwhelmed with the combination.

'Solas...'

'Let me speak, vhenan, please. I wanted to give you..something...enansal. I know there are many ways of showing someone you care for them and they don't have to include gifts but I wanted you to have something from me. Not a trifle, a piece of jewellery you would keep in a box, although you would look absolutely regal in fine jewellery and, in another time, I would be happy to give it to you. As well as many other gifts. But here and now I wanted you to have a gift that would be practical. I wanted to give you a Pride of Arlathan first. But Pride is all too common. You deserve something more, something much rarer. So I changed my mind. When I was in Orlais, it was not only for the research materials operation. I went there for your gift and I was lucky. I didn't really catch it. I can't say I tamed it either because he can never be tamed. But he...agreed to be mastered.'

He opened the little gate and extended his hand to her:

'Ithilvhen, come meet someone special. I want to give you my Hart.'

'Your..?'

There was a tremble in her voice.

'Come.'

She entered the stall gingerly and froze after the first step. Her unblinking eyes were drawn to what she instinctively recognized as the most magnificent mount she'd ever heard about but hadn't seen. Until that moment.

'Solas.'

She exhaled without looking at him.

'Is this really a Red Hart?'

She knew the answer already but she craved the bliss of the confirmation from him.

'Indeed. And he is yours. I hope you will become friends. I told him about you.'

'He is incredible.'

She gasped, truly in awe of the animal few people ever saw and now she had one. She refused to believe it still. She was slowly walking around the hart to see him from all sides.

'How did you..? Where did you..? How did you get him?'

'I found him. And, as I said, I was lucky enough. He agreed to submit to my will and let me bring him here. Maybe because he knew he wasn't meant for me all along?'

Solas smiled.

Lavellan was too astonished but she still realized luck most probably had nothing to do with it. She turned around and in two quick steps was hugging Solas, burying her face in his neck and inhaling his smell. He smelt of the woods. Fresh grass and dried leaves. Of home. 

'Ma serannas emma lath. This is the most beautiful gift I have ever received or ever will. I can't even think of everything you went through to do this for me and you will probably never tell me but I need you to know that I appreciate it all deeply. '

She stood on her toes to kiss him. He made it a long long kiss. She nestled into his embrace and he held her head to his chest, brushing his fingers through her short hair, not letting her go. He did not want to show her his face when it so utterly betrayed what he knew. He did all that for her and would and will do more. Some things she would not think possible. Some things she would likely not forgive. He cleared his throat.

'Go meet him. Be careful, it will take some time for the two of you to build the connection but he will accept you. And when he does, he will be your loyal companion as long as he lives.'

Ithilven stepped towards the hart and cautiously extended her right hand towards its snout when Solas stopped her,

'Wait.'

And put a shiny red apple in her right hand.

'Hold out your both hands. Let him smell you first and give him the apple. Then pet him.'

She did as was told. She brought her hands up towards the animal's nose. Curiously, he first went to sniff her empty left one instead of the apple in the right. The Anchor glowed for a moment. He nuzzled her left palm in a motion that seemed like an inclination of his head and then went for the crispy apple. Solas looked as pleased as Lavellan herself.

'He seems to like you already.'

The Inquisitor grinned.

'I already adore him.'

She was rubbing his head slowly, from the sensitive twitching nose all the way up to between the antlers. Solas gently caught her hand anticipating her motion.

'Not the antlers, da'len. Maybe later, when he trusts you enough. But be careful even then.'

'All right, I'm sorry. When do you think I can ride him?' 

She was a pupil asking her hahren.

'Not yet. But soon, I believe. We should probably take the first ride together. I believe he would feel more comfortable. And I would want to be sure you're safe.'

'Thank you', she whispered. 'I'll come and see him as often as I can so we can take him out soon.'

'Good. I'm glad you like him.'

'Ar lath ma Solas.'

'Ar lath ma Ithilvhen.'

Before they left the stables, Solas put his hand on the hart's head, brought his forehead close and whispered.

'You are hers now, ma falon uth. She will not let you down. Keep her safe.'

Lavellan couldn't hear the words from where she was standing so she enquired, curious.

'What did you say to him?'

'I welcomed him to his new home.'

She took Solas by the hand and smiled appreciatively.

'He answered that he quite likes oat cakes.' he added.

Lavellan burst out laughing, stopped, looked at Solas with those big eyes:

'He does, doesn't he?'

'You are a treasure. I don't know how I deserved you.'

He planted a kiss on her temple, even though two stable boys were just entering and blushing uncontrollably at the sight.  
As they went out into the sunlight, she waved and Solas nodded to Blackwall, who started in the their direction but quickly realized that was a private moment and returned to his business.

'So,' Solas said, 'when will I have the honour of the audience with the Inquisitor? I'm afraid we haven't concluded all the agreed plans for today yet.'

'Well, about that,' a mischievous and audacious smile appeared on her lips,

'I have a surprise for you, too.'

'Oh,' the corners of his mouth and one brow lifted. 'I do like the sound of that.'

'Come to my chamber after sundown.'

'I'm sure I will.'

He didn't ask anything more.

'I'll leave you to your duties, My Lady Inquisitor.'

He departed after what appeared to onlookers as a brief, courtly touch of his lips on her hand. They could not see his tongue passing over her knuckles or the pulse of his magic surging right through her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure most of you reading this know the few Elven words used in the chapter but just in case this makes it easier for someone:  
> "vhenan'ara" - heart's desire  
> "enansal" - a gift/a blessing  
> "ma serannas" - thank you  
> "emma lath" - my love  
> "ma falon uth" - I constructed it from the known Elven words to mean "my eternal friend".


	11. Chapter 11

Inquisitor Lavellan spent the rest of her day between the thoughts of her future evening (and night) with Solas, of his trip to Orlais, of the magnificent creature he had given her and of Orlesian great bears which she had completely forgotten to ask him about. He had probably been attacked while tracking the hart. Thank Creators he was all right. Though who knows what all that trip had cost him. She felt such gratitude she wanted to run out of the war table room, rush to him, throw away whatever book, brush, herb, staff, mosaic piece he had in his hand, hug him, squeeze him tight, jump and circle her legs around him as soon as he held her and tell him how much she loved him. She decided she would. 

Right now, however, her advisers were competing for her attention, each with problems and suggestions of their own. She said a couple of sentences to maintain the appearance of actually being present and only maybe even taking part, stared at the map in front of her and went back to her thoughts. She was wondering how it would be. Her surprise. She had had something of a...rehearsal the day before...

 

When Dorian finally appeared at the top of the stairs to her chambers, he was carrying a little tray with a bottle of brandy and a pair of pretty snifters made of slightly opaque glass. She only knew the name of the glass because of Dorian. She was quite sure he was pulling her leg when he first told her there were all sorts of different glasses for various kinds of drinks. So he had talked to Josephine and they arranged an educational course on high society drinking for her, showcasing and explaining what was what. She still thought it was a bit ridiculous but apparently that's how it was done in noble houses of Tevinter and Antiva. So she enjoyed that she'd learnt something new of the multicultural affair the Inquisition and her life had turned out to be. She didn't really remember a lot of those glass kinds or their designated drinks anymore, just the ones that were in most common use in the Keep. And Dorian had a particular preference for this kind of glass and drink. 

'Hope you don't mind, dear? I figured dealing with some questions regarding magic and alchemy couldn't be spoilt by a sip of brandy?'

He set the tray on a small table and filled the glasses with the warm amber-coloured spirit, moved the elaborately embroidered Orlesian pouf she hardly ever used close to the armchair and sat down, his feet up on the pouf, a full glass in each hand, one extended to her.

'And I have to repeat, I will gladly help you with whatever I can but, however unbelievable and unlikely it might seem, there might be better candidates for this talk. There are far better alchemists in Skyhold than I am. I never said that, by the way.'

Dorian gazed at her from under his eyebrows, one raised, pointing a ringed finger pretty close to her nose. He kept the finger pointing all the way while he took a sip of brandy, holding the glass with the remaining fingers of the same hand. He hadn't emptied it yet so Ithilvhen was quite mesmerized by the liquid swirling around in the glass as her friend went on to wave his hand about. 

'And you're probably making your lover mage jealous by asking me about magic.'

The idea stunned him so much as to make him put his feet back down on the floor and incline towards her clandestinely.

'Oh, is that the plan? Do we make him jealous?!' 

Dorian's excitement at the prospect was comparable to him getting a hold of a bottle of very rare Antivan.

'No,' Ithilvhen finally managed to insert a word as he started drinking, 'We're not making him jealous. And I can't ask anyone else about it because it is...private.'

'Oh? Trouble in Paradise?'

'What? No. Uuuugh! You are going to make it difficult, aren't you.' 

She gulped a shot of brandy before continuing. She didn't cringe. She seemed to be getting used to the stuff.

'I need your help in an experiment to use an elixir of frost on my bare skin...or very little clothes, no armour anyway, to see if it could be used safely...for fun.' 

She had to take the bottle and pore more brandy herself as Dorian seemed quite incapacitated. He was still holding his glass in mid-air. 

'Are you saying you need my help in seeing if you can kink up your sex life with our apostate?'

He finally managed.

'That's quite accurate, yes.'

'And it doesn't bother you that I will know what you two are up to?'

'Well, that's why I said I can't ask anyone else. You are my friend and I trust you and you're a mage and you can take care of me if anything goes wrong and you won't take an advantage...'

'If things go tits up you mean? 

His grin told her he was back to normal.

'Exactly.'

The tests, when they got to them eventually, were lots of fun. Especially when she managed to fully relax after another couple of drinks and Dorian's short lecture on "the safe use of magic whilst "at it". It was only short because, to her infinite pride and pleasure and his impressed respect, she demonstrated quite close familiarity with what he'd been talking about. 

So eventually, most parts of theory covered (some by actually discussing them and some by drinking a bit more brandy), Lavellan discarded her leggings and vest to remain in nothing more than a tunic and smallclothes. None of them were shy of that, not just due to the fine effects of alcohol but also the fact that they had to change and wash their clothes and armour in the field all the time so they'd all seen quite a bit of each other by now. Lavellan refused to do a little dance as she undressed, though. Saying it would be wasted on Dorian anyway and that she was sure he could do a fine stripping dance himself and a certain Qunari would probably quite enjoy that. Dorian beamed at her, confirming that he just might try that later on. 

And they started with crashing the frost bottles over the elf. She tried smashing one herself first, a bit gingerly, with Dorian and his magic readied right next to her. The best outcome of their research project was that they discovered it was possible to use the elixir on skin safely, for a short time at least. They only tried on her arms and legs and a bit on her neck and it quickly started prickling with frost, which was hardly painful but very exciting. She thought it would most probably feel a lot more intense on more sensitive parts. No problem at all over a tunic. But she was happier about it being possible on bare skin. 

Dorian warmed her up with magic every time and finally said there was no way Solas couldn't handle the frost even if it got a bit unruly on her skin. He said a lot of things actually. Some suggestions. And some compliments on the diversity of their bed play. And some things which deserved him a bottle of frost tossed at his chest from a short distance. 

He pretended to be shocked and then said he liked the tingling sensation even over the clothes and then whispered with a drunkenly conspiratorial look that he'd have to, what's that word Sera says, 'nick 'em', some of those bottles from her. She had to make sure he didn't. Not before they served their purpose in her surprise for Solas.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you the final chapter, where smut dwells. :) Hopefully I managed to express something more, though.  
> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are always welcome.

Ithilvhen managed to skillfully wrap up her daily duties as the Inquisitor early, while entirely avoiding the less pressing matters, to get into her quarters before Solas arrived. She could not be certain how much time she had on her hands but a wash was definitely in order so she discarded her dusty after a day of running around Skyhold uniform, and went to prepare the water. She filled the large tub and moved towards the washbasin to wash her hair first. She wanted to keep the water in the tub as clean as possible for later as she never succeeded in fully comprehending the shemlen love of soaking in one's own sweat and dirt. Oh, she loved the soaking, but the Dalish way of doing it in a stream or a river made so much more sense, where the flow kept the water around you clean no matter how long you remained there.

She poured a pitcherful of cool water over her hair, glad that it was short and didn't require much. She then leaned her hands on the washbasin edges at pouted, eyeing the little table next to it. The following decision-making process felt so out of place with all the life-threatening and life-changing decisions she'd got used to making lately. What to wash her hair with. The table was filled with all manner of colourful bottles, flasks and vials to choose from, all different fragrances and effects, this varying assortment appearing there regularly thanks to Josephine. Lavellan herself wasn't too fond of all that paraphernalia, she'd been happy using fresh or dried plants for the procedure all her life but Josie at least tried to keep her supplied with the concoctions that reminded her of the Dalish ways.

She went for the herbal mixture she knew Solas liked. There was elfroot, crystal grace, dark embrium and arbor blessing in it. In truth, she liked that smell, too, it reminded her of the Dales.

'I love this scent', she hadn't heard Solas enter, 'if I closed my eyes I could swear I was leaning against a tree, listening to the murmur of the Emerald Graves. And it is perfect now that you're there.'

A smile tugged at Ithilvhen's lips. Her slight startle at the intrusion swiftly turned into her heart and her thoughts fluttering with the pleasure that Solas' yet unanticipated presence brought. She exhaled deeply but quietly and bit her lip, the heat flushing though her body at the realization. Her vhenan had been so impatient as to appear in her chamber early.

'Solas.' He could hear the smile in her voice as he approached.

'And this is a nice surprise indeed.'

He continued, referring to the way she was bending over the washbasin with her hands up in her hair and only smalls and a breastband for clothes. She felt his body lightly brush against hers and chuckled.

'Here, let me help.'

He bent her back a bit more, gently pushing one hand against it, took a pitcher and started pouring the water over her head so she could rinse her hair.

He stopped when the water he was pouring remained clear and set the pitcher back on the table. Wringing her hair out was difficult it being short, so Lavellan asked Solas to hand her a cloth to dry it off, still bent over the washbasin and pointing in the right direction with one hand. Instead of the cloth she felt his hand in hers.

'Are you sure you need one?'

He asked with mirth clear in his voice, turned her around to face him and ran his fingers through her soaking wet hair. The predatory grin that followed showed he got the desired effect, as tiny streams of water started running along Lavellan's neck, finding their way through her collarbones to disappear between her breasts still covered by the breastband. She closed her eyes and moaned as he raked his fingers through the back of her neck and buried them in her hair and leaning in, started tracing the waterways on her skin with his tongue.

'I did plan to wash.'

She exhaled a tease as Solas' head was moving lower. She gasped as his mouth closed over her nipple, the water from her hair and his saliva soaking the band through.

'Do not worry, vhenan. I will do a better job of it.'

He promised with a drop in his voice, lifting her arms above her head and freeing her breasts by pulling the breastband off. He flicked the garment aside and concentrated on licking the bare skin of each breast, teasing the nipples. Lavellan purred and pressed his head closer and it sent a chuckle from his mouth to vibrate on her skin. When he moved up to squeeze more water from her hair, she caught his mouth in a wanton kiss. The elven woman melted at the contact, wrapping her leg around his hip, and shivered at the goosebumps all over her skin, from the contrast of the cold of the water droplets and the heat of his breath.

Solas pressed his hand against the small of her back, pulling her nearer and traced the contours of her leg hooked around him, sliding from her ankle up. He finally reached her inner thigh and as he moved to palm her little ass from below, his wrist rested right between her legs. He smirked having found her smalls, which were in no contact with water whatsoever, completely soaked.

The lack of air compelled them to break the kiss and Solas used the pause to pull down her smalls. Without saying a word he stepped away from her and started unlacing his own breeches. The lovers smiled at each other and she had to bite her lip at his denial to let her help. He gestured for her to stay where she was and simply watch him undress. His breeches fell to the floor and the thin fabric of his tunic did a poor job of covering his arousal. When that last piece of clothing joined the pile, however, Lavellan was denied touching him again, given a wet kiss as a consolation.

"Not just yet, ma sa'lath. You wanted to wash and I promised to do a good job of it, remember?"

Her knees buckled at the promise in his sensual baritone and she was quick to step into the tub as soon as he'd cast a fire rune to keep the water warm. He followed and settled down first, leaning his back on the headrest, stretching his long muscled legs and helping Lavellan position herself between them.

Solas picked a purple vial from the side table, sniffed its contents and, quite satisfied, poured some of the thick fragrant liquid over Ithilvhen's back and started massaging her skin in circles, the foam frothing between his long fingers. He was thorough in his task but although he did not make them intentionally so, his cleaning touches transformed into sensuous caresses. Lavellan moaned in his arms.

"You are doing a fine job indeed, vhenan."

She dipped to rinse off the foam when he was done, turned around to face him and stood on her knees in the water to reach his face for a kiss. She felt his manhood stir and fondled it under the water.

"Come lie down with me."

He asked and she set herself with her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder. The position allowed them both to touch each other. She closed her fingers around his length and he exhaled forcefully but stopped her hand from moving. Lavellan seemed both confused and frustrated.

"Still? Why not, Solas?"

"Don't be disappointed, vhenan. I will be happy for you to do it later. I want to see you enjoy first."

It was a wish she found hard to defy. She pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, lay back and relaxed. He started outlining her jawline with the tips of his fingers and followed to slid his hands all over her, from her neck to her breasts, as far as he could reach just below her belly button. He traced the intricate designs of ancient elven runes on her skin and they made her tingle and gasp. He cupped her breasts, pressing them flat and massaging them, then trapping her nipples in the v-shape between his index and middle fingers. She started panting and her arm went up to wrap around his neck, at the same time as her legs spread. She nuzzled his neck and he kissed her hair and continued playing with her stiffened tips.

He whispered elvhen profanities in her ear which had the desired effect without her having to understand what they meant. It might have been for the best that she didn't understand, she would have inevitably blushed at their meaning. Her legs were spread wide and although neither his nor her hands ever moved down to touch her mound, she was nearing her peak. He changed the shapes he was tracing and squeezed and tugged at her nipples as his name was slipping off her lips. Unable to resist any longer, she grabbed his fully erect cock and pressed it between her legs, covering her opening and her throbbing clit, holding it there on the surface. She threw her head back and cried out, shattering into orgasm. Solas sank into the water slightly, hissing at her touch, and buried his face in her hair.

Lavellan was still feeling the pulses of her climax when she opened her eyes. She smiled at Solas and quietly got up and out of the tub. She circled around it, leaving sloppy footprints on the floor, and stood above Solas. He hadn't moved yet and was looking up at her quizzically. She cradled his face in her hands. 

'Garas, ma vhenan'ara. It is my turn now.'

She smiled an insistent smile and he conceded.

'Ma nuvenin, ma sulahn'nehn.'

She took Solas by the hand and led him back to the main chamber, the water splashing off their bodies and pooling at their bare feet. Lavellan nudged her man to sit on the bed and left him with the taste of her kiss as she turned and walked away to feed a few more logs to the fire crackling in the hearth. The flames played beautifully on her skin, painting it soft gold of the autumn woods, water droplets glistening like dew that caught the last of the gentle sun before winter. She prodded the logs and gave the embers a stir, aware he was watching and letting him take her in. 

Lavellan's slow approach now offered him the full frontal view of her nudity. He smiled his appreciation as she pushed him further into supine position and lowered herself on top. She raised her brow with a chuckle when his erection brushed her belly. Who would have thought Solas to be so impressive in bed, in addition to all his other skills and knowledge. His ability to stay hard for her was only rivalled by his stamina when he finally put that hardness to use.

She glided over and lifted herself above him, her knees sinking into the mattress on each side. She cupped his cheek and leaned in for a kiss, soft and sweet but turning deeper and wetter and hotter as she flicked her tongue in pursuit of his and licked his lower lip and bit the upper. At that he groaned and his hands pressed her down so she sat on him, her wet slit rubbing against his abdomen. He groaned again through their kiss. She broke their contact and pressed her index finger on his lips as he lifted his head to catch her mouth in his again.

'No, vhenan. Now you relax and enjoy. And mind, you only watch.'

A wicked grin took hold of his lips as he received her instructions.

'For now.' She added playfully. 

She turned around and stood on all fours, her face just above his crotch, thus granting him an unrestricted view of hers. She dove down and finally took the tip of his cock in her mouth. Slowly, so slowly she slid the circle of her lips down, swallowing more of him until she was full. She held the base of his shaft in her hand and sucked, moving up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip. Solas arching his back and hissing served as a signal for her to continue. The sensation of his cock filling her mouth and the clear sighs of his pleasure brought her own arousal back, her inner walls spreading, ready to receive him inside. But not yet. She changed the pace and he muttered something in elvish she did not understand, but it sounded like a curse and a plea at the same time.

'Ithilvhen,' he uttered hoarsely, 'I need to be inside you. Now.'

More than happy to oblige, with the final sucking noise on his cock, Ithilvhen reached for the flasks tucked under the mattress and shoved them in the heap of crumpled sheets by her side, unnoticed. She straddled him, facing the need in his eyes. With perfect aiming she slid onto him in one move, both moaning at the fulfillment. She placed her hands on his chest for support and started moving her hips up and down. He gripped her hips and helped her keep the rhythm of thrusts. She sped up and then almost stopped, only to impale herself deeper and grind against him in circles. When Solas threw his head back and closed his eyes for a second, the flasks of frost were in her hands and the next moment, crushed over her body, sending a thin armour of sparkling ice over her skin except the legs. Solas jolted up in shock, his magic sparkling at the tips of his fingers. He looked at her with amusement, surprise, awe and heat all mixed up and rushed to grab her by the back of her neck and kiss her deeply, making sure he remained inside her all the time. A tiny mageflame appeared in his palms, spreading further along his body and then crawling over to her legs. She gasped at the contrast of ice and fire on her skin. The sensation was so intense it locked all her nerves on the brink of pain. And then it stopped as suddenly with a soothing wave of Solas' healing magic enveloping her. The magic felt incredible, all of it, the cold, the flame, the breeze, she didn't want it to stop.

'Don't let it stop, Solas.'

'Ma nuvenin, ma sa'lath.'

This time she heard the crackling and hissing and looked up. A ball of lightening was suspended above them, spitting tiny bolts and sparkles all around. As the first of them landed on their skin, hissing, Solas planted a kiss on her lips and she couldn't read everything in his eyes because there was so much but she could read some, enough for now. He cupped her face in his hands, his arms holding her in position against her collarbones, and lowered them both back slowly.

Lavellan remained on her knees, but now only her legs were in contact with his hips, her supple body hovering above his, their faces right in front of each other.

'I want to look at you.'

Solas said intensely and, holding her up like that, started thrusting up, faster and faster, never breaking the eye contact. The burst of pleasure caught up with the burst of magic within moments and Lavellan finally crumpled over her beloved mage. His hands caressing her back, he kissed the tip of her ear and buried his face in her hair. The silence hung until both lovers caught enough of breath.

'Ma serannas, vhenan, for your gift. I must tell you now, however, that I will require you bestow it on me again. And again. With all the flasks you will learn. As your hahren I will have to make sure they are properly prepared and used.'

She lifted herself off of him and slumped near, laughing, delighted her idea turned out a success, and poked him.

'And as hahren, you obviously retain the right to define the proper use of the flasks?' 

He grinned in response.

'Obviously.' 

Solas pulled Ithilvhen back to him and she nestled along his side, fitting perfectly. He put one arm around her and nuzzled her ear. She rested her hand below his stomach, just above a tuft of dark hair. 

'Solas?'

'Hm?'

'So you think I'll make a good Tempest?'

He squeezed her closer and rumbled a satisfied laugh.

'There is no doubt you are going to be the most outrageously glorious tempest. You make me proud already. It took courage to attempt such a use of the flasks, I am verry impressed. Did you...'

He paused for a moment, as if considering if he should ask the question. He decided he would, even if he shouldn't really.

'...have any assistance in your experiments?'

She snickered and rolled on her stomach to see his face.

'I did. Do you want to know who?'

Of course he did.

'Well, I can think of a few ways to make you talk, vhenan.'

'Hmmm, that sounds tempting. I think I just might keep a few things from you in the future. It was Dorian.'

'Ah.' Lavellan wasn't sure what that meant, if he was relieved or mad or jealous or none of those.

'And how far did...the experiments go?'

So he was jealous, at least a bit. Her smile became gentler.

'Not far enough for me to become a threat to Dorian's preference of male company. Do you mind that he helped and that he knows?'

Solas leaned in to kiss her on the lips, sat up a bit on the pillows, tucked his arms behind his head and snickered.

'I don't mind, vhenan. Let him know. The man might as well learn something.'

Solas knew she loved Dorian and he knew she loved him so much more in so many ways and he knew the comment would still earn him a slight punch in the ribs. It was playful and gentle enough but he still flexed his abs receiving it. Lavellan wondered if that was the continuation of his masculinity display. She grinned. Her index finger pointed at him as she stated.

'I won't tell you to stop insulting my friends. I will tell you that every time you do, you will owe me one favour. My choice, no advance notice, no refusing, no arguing and no complaining about it.'

Her lover's predatory grin was a clear sign he would enjoy that game. He breathed out slowly and loudly.

'Oh vhenan, that truly was no insult. But I accept and I serve to please.'

She squinted her eyes at him and made up her mind.

'We start now. You take me...' She made a deliberate pause. 'for a ride on the red hart. You take me to a nice secluded place somewhere in the woods. And there you take me.'

'I am aware that "no arguing" was included into the contract, but can I take you here and now, first?'

He was so highly convincing, lying on his side leaning on one arm, one knee bent, abs flexed and his cock at half mast again already. She wanted him. But she'd have him. She crawled towards him on all fours and stopped with her face inches from his. Her fingers raked the muscles of his chest as she moved in closer so that the tips of their noses touched, and traced his lower lip with her thumb.

'Not now. But as a compromise, I will let you do one thing only to me, before we go. It can be anything but it should only take moments. Agree?'

'Oh yes.'

He got to his feet the same instant and swept her off the bed. She was so light in his arms, so warm and so his and it felt so perfect he refused to think about the future. He carried her across the room and gently kicked the balcony door open. The next moment they were out in the biting cold of the Frostbacks night, their breath steaming and their bodies shivering. He put her down on her feet briefly, just to help her jump up and wrap her legs around his hips. She clasped her hands behind his neck, their gazes locked.

'Ar lath ma Ithilvhen.'

'Ar lath ma Solas.'

She pressed her body to his, every inch of skin desperate for contact and he held her tight. Lavellan felt he was radiating heat and desire and love and some deep inner strength, some undefinable power.

Snowflakes melting on her bare shoulders made her look around and see that it was only snowing over them, on a small patch of her balcony, in the ancient Tarasyl'an Te'las that was still holding back the sky as they were locked in a kiss, witnessed by the fang-white mountain peaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish phrases used in the chapter:
> 
> ma sa'lath - my one love  
> Garas, ma vhenan'ara - Come, my heart's desire.  
> Ma nuvenin, ma sulahn'nehn. - As you wish, my joy/happiness.  
> Ma nuvenin, ma sa'lath. - As you wish, my one love.  
> Ma serannas, vhenan. - Thank you, my heart.  
> Ar lath ma. - I love you.


End file.
